come from London -- that is my only reason for believing
it. We will hope it is a mistake."

After leaving the Stores, Mrs. Otway, following a
sudden impulse, began walking rather quickly down the
long street which led out of Witanbury towards the
village where the Guthries lived. Why should she not
go out and pay a late call on the old lady? If any of
these dreadful rumours had reached Dorycote House,
Mrs. Guthrie must surely be very much upset.

Her kind thought was rewarded by a sight of the
letter Major Guthrie had left to be posted to his mother
on the 18th of August, that is, on the day when was
to be published the news that the Expeditionary Force
had landed safely in France.

The letter was, like its writer, kind, thoughtful, considerate;
and as she read it Mrs. Otway felt a little
pang of jealous pain. She wished that he had written
_her_ a letter like that, instead of a rather ridiculous
postcard. Still, as she read the measured, reassuring
sentences, she felt soothed and comforted. She knew
that she was not reasonable, yet -- yet it seemed impossible
that the man who had written that letter, and
the many like him who were out there, could allow
themselves to be surrounded and captured -- by Germans!

"He has also sent me a rather absurd postcard,"
observed the old lady casually. "I say absurd because
it is not dated, and because he also forgot to put the
name of the place where he wrote it. It simply says
that he is quite well, and that I shall hear from him as
soon as he can find time to write a proper letter."

She waited a few moments, and then went on: "Of

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v?